>At 12 my dad put other devices in my hands...cutting torch, wrenches, steam
>cleaner wand, spray gun, and I decarbonized heads and ground valves. But I
>think the welding helmet kept falling off of my pointy little head, so I did
>not advance to that stage.
>
>Besides, I found cleaner ways of making a buck.....
>
>Years later, I became involved in the layout of a large weld shop for
>manufacturing along with the purchase capital equipment and tooling. I still
>didnt know how to competently weld at this point. And have not tried.
>
>However, it is odd that I went full circle back to working on Tractor
>Engines...this would be a mystery to my dad.
Hey Joe,
Your post reminded of something I wrote about my greasy formative years...
My dad was a mechanic for the State Highway Department. Before that
he was the crew chief for a B29 in Guam. I guess that's where he
polished his fine knack for making something out of nothing.
We always had someone's car in our garage for a tune-up or a brake
job. In our little town he was THE way to have your car repaired. One
hot summer day he decided the garage needed a fan but he wasn't about
to buy one.
From the scrap pile he scrounged a bell housing, some angle iron, a
big electric motor from a refrigerator compressor, a steel cooling
fan from a Chevy truck, a barrel and some steel grate.
He turned the bell housing on end to use as a stand. Then he welded
some angle iron across the small end for bolting on the electric
motor. To that he screwed the truck fan onto motor's shaft. Then made
a "safety" cage out of a section of the barrel. To finish it all off
he added some steel grate and in no time it was finished.
Time to plug it in.
There may still be old-timers in town who talk about Ed's Fan of Death.
It started with a nice breeze then cranked up to a low roar. In short
order (very short order) the cooling breeze sounded like his B29
heading down the runway with a full bomb load. Stuff (heavy stuff)
was blowing out of the open garage door and the fan itself started to
walk in the opposite direction of the gale.
Dad grinned smugly. I ran for the house.
I was sure the thing was lethal but dad decided all it really needed
was more weight. He added some bricks to keep it from walking and
used it for years.
After dad died the Fan of Death, and lots of his other contraptions
just disappeared. Sure wish I had some of them now. There are kids in
my neighborhood who could use a good scarin'.
--
Scott Paceley
spaceley@uiuc.edu * 217-333-8759 * Champaign, IL
graphic design, photography, digital imaging
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